


Should've said so sooner

by nitorisource



Category: Free!
Genre: Humor, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:03:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2272539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nitorisource/pseuds/nitorisource
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sousuke isn't the biggest fan of spicy food. Makoto accidentally switches the handmade bento he prepared for his boyfriend. Makoto <em>loves</em>spicy food. Rin generally loses his shit the entire time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a thoughtful bento

**Author's Note:**

> thank you [inthenameofsoumako](http://inthenameofsoumako.tumblr.com) for the message omg  
> works off the headcanon that Sousuke is has the lowest tolerance to spicy food ever seen, while Makoto will gladly guzzle down hot sauce by the bottle B)

“Oi, Sousuke, are you coming with me to the cafeteria for food or what?” Rin asks, toweling his head off after their early Saturday practice. Sousuke glances down from his bunk, already showered and dressed, and sighs.

“I already have my lunch,” he mumbles.

“You went while I was in the shower? Tch. Asshole.”

“No. I - uh, Makoto dropped it off for me this morning.”

Rin’s eyes travel to the box sitting on Sousuke’s desk, tied up in a light blue, polka dot patterned cloth and complete with a folded sticky note on top with Sousuke’s name scrawled in green ink. Just as Sousuke expected, his best friends wastes no time in doubling over with laughter, and his voice rings down their open door and down the hall.

“Oh my - oh god - Sousuke, are you sure he’s your boyfriend and not your mother?” he wheezes between his fits of tear-inducing laughter. “So that’s where you went so early this morning - to see - to have Makoto drop off a lunch? How romantic!”

“Fuck off, you’re one to talk, Rin,” Sousuke bites out, but it takes more than a few minutes to get the redhead to come down from his hysterics because every time he looks at the lunch again, he finds the need to laugh harder.

“Honestly, you’re just jealous you didn’t get one, aren’t you?” he adds snidely after having to listen to Rin for so long, and he’s a little surprised to see that he’s actually hit a nerve.

“H-hey. That’s definitely not it,” Rin protests, a sharp-toothed scowl fixing itself onto the mouth that was so openly laughing just seconds before. “Why would I want a dumb lunch anyway?”

They end up having to deal with the Momo kid joining at the same table when he spots his gray-haired senpai, who was, by the way, saving his Rin-senpai a seat like the little nerd he is.

“Whoa - Yamazaki-senpai, did a girl give that to you?” Momotarou asks in a loud, incredulous voice as he takes the seat beside Sousuke and leans over to inspect the perfectly prepared bento box, his eyes sparkling with envy.

“Momo-kun, this is an all boy’s school, remember?” Nitori says, hanging his head.

“So another student gave that to you?” Momotarou’s exuberance does not fade in the slightest. “But, wait… did they ask to use the kitchen or something to cook this?”

Rin has been beside himself with silent giggling all the while but Sousuke gives him a stern look to warn him not to say a thing. He’s not sure he wants it going around that he’s dating the captain of a rival team, especially since they still have a few joint practices scheduled. While Momotarou continues to hammer him with more questions, Sousuke simply drowns out his over excited voice as best he can and plucks the note off so that he can get to eating already.

If he wasn’t in such an irritated mood, maybe he would have taken the chance to do something sensible, such as taking a look at his food before shovelling a bite of it into his mouth. Maybe then, he would have at least had the chance to spit it out, but instead his tongue begins to register the burning pain only once the food has made its way to his stomach.

He’s still for a few moments. Rin leans over to take a look inside.

Then Sousuke abruptly scoots his chair back, slamming his fists on his table as he stands up, and almost shoves Momotarou’s face into his bowl of food as he turns to stalk away from the table, every pair of eyes in the cafeteria on him as he power walks through the doors.

Fuck. Fuck. He can’t believe it. He knows Makoto wouldn’t do this on purpose since that angel knows how terrible he is at stomaching hot food despite the bravado Sousuke likes to put on, but he also wonders what terrible crime he’d recently committed that would prompt the universe to punish him like this. Ever since his mouth’s felt like it was ignited with the eternal flames of hell, his body has been sweating buckets and he’s had to bite back a few choice words of profanity.

Oh man, does he want to scream. Just like the first time Makoto set down a plate of his steaming, delicious looking food in front of him during their first dinner date while the rest of Makoto’s family was away. He remembers taking one happy spoonful, looking Makoto dead in the eye while those green eyes shimmered with hope that Sousuke would approve of his cooking, only to let out a giant, humiliating scream of, “Holy _fucking_ shit, Makoto, please, get me water! Oh my - hot. _Hot_ , holy-- _I'm gonna fuckin'_ \--”

If Ren and Ran had been there, he’s certain he would have corrupted their young minds with the more colorful language he decided to use as the night wore on.

But there’s no way he’s expressing a hint of that weakness here, not with all these other Samezuka students milling through the halls so he slows down his pace as he silently marches to where he knows the vending machines housing precious,, blissful, heat-extinguishing milk are.

Every now and then, he catches a glimpse of the faces of some of the lower classmen and he’s bewildered at the expressions of horror and fear they’re all wearing as soon as they catch sight of him. He knows that when he first transferred to Samezuka a few of the first years swimmers were more than a little timid in approaching him, but these guys look like they’re afraid he’s going to punch them in the face or throw them out the nearest window, and he’s positive he hasn’t done anything to earn that kind of reputation. Even when he coolly passes by a few of the guys in his classes, their greetings of, “Hey, Yamazaki-kun” are cut short with widened eyes nervous, averted gazes.

He just doesn’t realize how murderous, and not at all ‘cool,’ he actually looks, his jaw clenched tightly and eyebrows knit so fiercely together that there’s a hint of a vein bulging in on his forehead, while he walks on with that usual cold, piercing look to his eyes. To add to that, his normally complacent face is colored a light red and every now and then he makes a tiny, hostile grunt of pain every time he thinks his tongue is going to fall off.

When he finally reaches the vending machines, it takes everything in him not to kick the fucking thing in and tear a milk box out of there, though he does end up almost collapsing in front of it, slapping his hand against the display case and successfully making the poor kid next to him piss his pants as he reaches for his juice in the other machine.

With shaking fingers, he shoves in all the change he’s got in his pockets and presses the milk button one or twenty times too much.

* * *

 

When Sousuke finally makes his way back to Rin and the others, the two kiddos give him a really strange look while it seems that Rin hasn’t stopped in his stifled laughing ever since he left.

“Yamazaki-senpai, you’ve got… a little bit… here,” Nitori says awkwardly, motioning to a spot on his shirt just below his collar. Sousuke glances down and notices the wet stain on the fabric of his shirt, and he groans internally to himself as he takes his seat again and stares into his mocking, sinful bento while he hopes that no one, _no one_ saw the way he was animalistically guzzling down those milk boxes earlier.

“You left this here when you ran off,” Rin says, seemingly composed, but he has to put his head down and shake with silent laughter again the moment he sees the pure dread and anguish that washes over Sousuke’s face in response to the text messages across his phone screen.

_Sousuke! I seem to have mixed up our lunches today._

_Please do NOT eat yours! It might be a little too spicy._

_I’m so sorry!_

_Please don’t be mad. I love you! I will make it up later, I promise._

 


	2. just a loving kiss. just one. please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making out with someone isn't supposed to hurt like this

“Sousuke!”

The raven haired teen glances up at the sound of his name and he spots the person running towards him through the crowd of boarding and unboarding train passengers at the station. Makoto is red in the face from the harsh winter air and from probably having ran all the way here from his house, though there’s still an uncontrollable grin on his face from the mere sight of his waiting boyfriend.

“I’m sorry for being so late,” he says, huffing and hunching over with his hands on his knees once he finally catches up. “Are you ready for - wait, wait, Sousuke don’t--”

Makoto’s arms flail almost uselessly against the embrace Sousuke immediately envelopes him in, his strong arms holding the brunet’s broad shoulders and waist in place as one of his hands goes up to tilt Makoto’s chin up for a greeting kiss. He’s been looking forward to the meeting all day after having a week of pointless exams (which Sousuke didn’t bother studying for, but Makoto was the one who suggested a ban from seeing one another while he did put the effort into passing them) and refuses to waste a second now that he’s reunited with the warm presence he’s craved so much, even if Makoto is a little skittish about doing this in public.

He presses his lips firmly against Makoto’s, effectively swallowing the tiny hum of protest the brunet lets out, and Sousuke takes advantage of those parted lips. His tongue hungrily darts inside, relishing in the warmth and wetness of Makoto’s mouth, a pleasant reprieve from the cold air he’s been sitting in for the past twenty minutes, and he’s already having thoughts of what they’re going to do after--

\--Why - why does Makoto’s mouth taste--

Sousuke’s grip on his waist slackens and Makoto pulls away, pushing lightly on the taller man’s chest to give himself enough room to breathe, and he stammers out, “I - I didn’t want you to kiss me because I had mackerel just before coming here. Haru wanted me to try a taste of a new recipe.” He’s blushing so furiously and can hardly meet Sousuke’s eyes that he doesn’t yet notice the fact, despite the temperature, sweat has begun to bead on Sousuke’s face and neck, and even his ears are turning red at the tips.

“What - what the fuck did Nanase put in it?” Sousuke croaks out in a parched voice. It finally grabs Makoto’s attention, and his green eyes widen at the pained expression contorting his boyfriend’s features.

“Ah - ah, it was chile powder, I’m not sure - he said he made it just for me but - Sousuke, did you taste some of - ?“

“Water. I need water. Milk. Anything. Please.” He doesn’t exactly want to blow his cool at a public place like this, but now he’s got Makoto outwardly panicking as he glances around the station for a vending machine as well as realizes their train has begun to pull away.

“I - I don’t think there’s anywhere here that sells drinks,” Makoto says in a squeak. He’s looking at Sousuke like he expects the guy is going to collapse or burst into flames or both at any moment, so he tugs on Sousuke’s arm and gets them running to the direction of his house. “Just hang in a little longer, okay, Sousuke? Okay?”

Sousuke can’t bear to open his mouth for a response. He isn’t sure what it was that he managed to taste in Makoto’s mouth, but whatever it is, it feels as though it’s lit a trail of flames all over the rest of his tongue and has caught fire to ignite his throat in the pain as well.

For the second time that month, he wonders why this kind of thing has to happen to him.

Once they do reach Makoto’s house, the two of them out of breath and Sousuke still trying his best to keep his pain buried beneath a cool exterior, Makoto fumbles around in the pockets of his parka for his house keys, only to turn them all out empty.

“Ah,” he says frantically, “I can’t have left them - and no one is at home, so - ah, let’s just go to Haru’s, he should still be home!”

Under normal circumstances during which his mouth did not feel like it was being stabbed with hot pokers, Sousuke probably would have turned down an offer to go to that person’s house, but he didn’t protest as Makoto led him up the set of stairs to where Haru was, just a few feet away, actually. The brunet raps hurriedly on the door, and Haru, thankfully, answers right away.

“Makoto? I thought you went - oh.” His passive blue eyes fall on the taller man beside his best friend, and they flicker with something indiscernible when he notes the expression on Sousuke’s face.

“Sorry, Haru, but do you have something Sousuke can drink? It seems he still tasted what you cooked for me earlier, and he doesn’t do well with spicy food so I think he’s in a lot of pain.”

As though only to drag their conversation further, Haruka slowly asks, “How did he taste the mackerel I made? You ate the piece before you left.”

“Ah - y-yes, well, you see - “

He allows Makoto to flail about embarrassedly for a few moments, all while Sousuke seems to be losing the ability to breathe, before wordlessly standing aside to let the two of them in. All he has is barley tea, but Sousuke gladly chugs down two glasses before the spiciness leaves his tongue.

“Thank you, Haru,” Makoto says on his boyfriend’s behalf. Sousuke’s sulking a little over the fact that he had to freak out over something so miniscule, and in front of Nanase no less, but he mumbles his thanks as well while Makoto stands to bring the glasses to the kitchen.

“Hm,” is all the reply Haruka offers as he turns away, and Sousuke sees it again, that change in his stoic expression.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Nanase was amused.

Haruka seems to read Sousuke’s wary suspicions from the way the air in the room has changed, and he turns his head back to the taller, frowning man and simply raises his eyebrows. A ghost of a smile settles on his thin lips, existing solely to mock Sousuke, but it disappears as soon as Makoto reenters the room, giving Sousuke no chance to bark something back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haru offered them another bite of spicy mackerel before they left and makoto pulled sousuke out the door before he tried to start a fight


	3. someone had to have plotted with the chef this time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you probably already know how this dinner is gonna go down for them

“Have you decided yet on what you want?”

Sousuke’s eyes continue to glaze lazily over the menu flat on the table in front of him, but he can hardly tell one dish from the other or one picture from another. It’s only about ten pm and he’s dead tired after an exhausting day of exams and practice, but he can never say ‘no’ to Makoto when he wants to go out like this, just the two of them.

“Not yet,” Sousuke mumbles, fighting the urge to cover his mouth for a yawn.

Makoto’s eyes go back to his menu for a few seconds before he says, with a small smile, “We can go back to my house, if you want. We can order something really quick and you can go back to Samezuka to sleep.”

“‘m fine, ‘m fine,” he says quickly, hastily waving a hand through the air. Not after all the trouble it took to get permission to leave after hours. “You mind just ordering something for me? I keep seeing… math problems… all over this menu.”

“Sure thing,” Makoto says with a nod, his hand coming up to his mouth so that he can hide a small chuckle.

He hasn’t seen Sousuke like this before, his eyes fluttering shut halfway through sentences and a stupid, sleepy smile spreading easily over his lips at almost every little thing Makoto says, and although he feels terrible having asked Sousuke out for dinner with him like this, Makoto is just glad to see his boyfriend after a week of nothing but school.

When the waiter comes by to take their order, Sousuke jolts back to attention when he hears Makoto say, “Ah, but for one of them, do you mind making sure it’s not spicy at all?”

The word spicy immediately prompts Sousuke reeling back in horror-flashbacks of the first dinner they had at Makoto’s place or, most recently, the completely unfortunate mixed up bento incident. His stomach flips at the prospect of being mercilessly doused in flames yet again, but the waiter simply nods and Makoto offers Sousuke a reassuring smile.

Oh, right.

He’s glad Makoto is considerate enough to remember this for him.

They fall back into easy conversation, with Sousuke mostly just offering a few hums of acknowledgment here and there, until their food arrives, and after a quiet “itadakimasu” they dig simultaneously, Sousuke dragging his chopsticks up to his mouth lazily with his head still propped up on the table by his elbow.

The small talk must have caused Sousuke to drop his guard, because, for the third fucking time he realizes he’s eaten something he shouldn’t have.

Because this does not taste like the non-spicy version of their fucking noodle and seafood dish that Makoto asked for on his behalf, and, judging by the way Makoto eats the actual spicy version unflinchingly, Sousuke will probably have to plot out his will right now.

Fuck.

He’s going to pay for this again the next morning, but for right now, he feels his entire body start to heat up and he breaks out into a sweat as his fingers slowly begin to clutch more firmly into the table cloth, until he’s starting to pull over some of the things on Makoto’s side to his side of the table. He drops his chopsticks with a clatter and brings his drink to his lips so that he can gulp it down like his life depends on it.

“Sou?” Makoto asks, startled, his napkin over his mouth as he regards his boyfriend’s quiet meltdown. “Oh - oh!”

His cold drink provides its temporary relief only while it’s washing over his tongue, and as soons as his cup his empty the fire comes back - ten fucking fold.

That’s right, dumbass, you ordered a soda.

“Fuck,” he pants under his breath, slamming his cup back onto the table and clenching his jaw. “Fuck. Makoto, can I - god, fuck, can I have some water?” he squeaks out, struggling to keep his voice  in check as it raises in pitch with every word.

Makoto quickly hands him his glass, Sousuke’s hand sweating and shaking horribly, and he removes the straw before straight up chugging it down, cold water leaking from the corners of his mouth and mixing with the sweat dripping down his face.

“Is everything all right here?” the waiter asks, stopping by at their table and apparently oblivious to the red-faced, quietly panting, ready-to-burst-a-vein guy sitting right in front of him.

“Ah, yes - I mean, we ordered the non-spicy version of his food but it seems the order got messed up,” Makoto says quickly. “Can we please have more water?”

“My apologies! I’ll get that--is he okay?”

“Fine. I’m good,” Sousuke wheezes out, rubbing his palms over his jeans to dry them. “Yeah, fine. Water. Please.”

Makoto, the waiter, and the few other couples sitting in the restaurant end up just watching while Sousuke drinks straight from the pitcher that’s brought to him until he just about soaks his shirt with all the water that misses his mouth.

* * *

 

“At least… they gave the dinner to us for free?” Makoto offers as they make their way back to the station.

“Yeah,” Sousuke grunts, “fantastic.”

He’s been grouchy ever since they left the restaurant, his pride undoubtedly bruised again after his unfortunate display of weakness, and Makoto presses up closer against him so that he can hook their arms together.

“Sorry that happened,” Makoto offers in a hushed voice, trying to lean up to kiss Sousuke on the forehead. He begrudgingly accepts it and frowns.

“It’s not your fault, Makoto.”

“If I hadn’t asked for dinner, you wouldn’t have had to do that. You know, nearly died.”

Sousuke lets out a huffy sigh before mumbling, “Whatever. It was worth it. Since I got to see you.”

“Hm? What was that?”

“Gah, shut up, I know you heard me,” he says with a sour face, leaning away from Makoto’s face when the brunet tries to give him another kiss on the lips.

 

 


End file.
